


the disabled list: behind the scenes, and socks with character

by secretsquirrel



Category: Baseball RPF, detroit tigers - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M, Not porn, pretty fluffy, two guys being bffs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-16
Updated: 2012-07-16
Packaged: 2017-11-10 03:49:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/461898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretsquirrel/pseuds/secretsquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This guy next to him with the ridiculous socks and stupid hair and chipmunk cheeks is his best friend, and he knows the guy up and down, backwards and forwards, inside and out, one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish, right down to the reason why he doesn't buy a new pair of socks. So he doesn't bring it up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the disabled list: behind the scenes, and socks with character

  
Verlander and Zumaya sit on the couch in Zumaya's cramped apartment, wires from game controllers snaking over the coffee table. Zumaya has a huge stabilizing contraption on his right arm and sits with an unamused expression, watching the game graphic versions of his own teammates stand around on the field while Verlander chooses which team he wants to be. He's itching to play real baseball, he want to explode just thinking about throwing a fastball and his hands go numb at the idea of a curveball, but he can hardly cut steak or sign his name. It's breaking his heart. Verlander came over with the newest MLB game in an attempt to cheer him up. Zumaya hasn't decided if he's going to let it work or not.  
  
Verlander finally settles with the Orioles and Zumaya chuckles a little. He pokes at Verlander with his foot and nods at the screen.  
  
"That looks nothing like you." he says, pointing to virtual Verlander warming up on the mound.  
  
“Pitches like me though. Lucky for you.” Verlander grins.  
  
"And we both know that another one of _you_ is all I need." 

  


  
After a few innings of swearing and name-calling and halfhearted shin-kicking, the game tells Zumaya to bring in a reliever because virtual Verlander is tired. He scrolls through the list, mumbling to real Verlander about being a sissy and a lazyass and a pussy, trying to choose a reliever out of all his friends, all the guys he loves, and settles on himself. He laughs at the graphic of himself standing on the mound talking to virtual Verlander and makes a comment about how virtual Verlander's ass being the best CGI ass he's seen.  
  
In the next inning, after the second pitch or so, a blue popup interrupts the screen, 'Joel Zumaya is injured, you must replace him.'  
  
Zumaya sets down the controller on the coffee table and sits back to stare at the screen. Verlander looks at the game in frustration, like it's out to get Zumaya personally, and stretches out his leg to turn off the Playstation with his toe.  
  
"Sorry." he says quietly.  
  
"It ain't your fault."  
  
"Zoom, when you pitch at a hun'rd an' three something is bound to break." Verlander says tentatively.  
  
"I won't be able to play again. I heard 'em say it."  
  
"Yes you will." Verlander says.  
  
Zumaya inhales and holds it and then huffs it out, his eyes down. He can see Verlander looking at him and he can feel the concern in his eyes and waits for Verlander to say something. He looks over at him. Verlander's socks are pulled up too high so the grey heels are stretched up the backs of his ankles. Zumaya wonders why he doesn't get new socks with his major league paycheck but Verlander is funny that way and probably doesn't care or it's a superstition or he simply hasn't noticed that his socks are stretched out like potato sacks on his feet. No matter what the reason, though, he’d say it adds character, and Zumaya smiles because it's just such a Verlander thing to do. This guy next to him with the ridiculous socks and stupid hair and chipmunk cheeks is his best friend, and he knows the guy up and down, backwards and forwards, inside and out, one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish, right down to the reason why he doesn't buy a new pair of socks. So he doesn't bring it up.  
  
"I'm sorry for being a downer, it's gotta bug you." Zumaya says quietly  
  
"It doesn't. I'd be the same way." Verlander assures him. "You are rightfully and understandably being a downer."  
  
"I'm driving you nuts."  
  
"No."  
  
Zumaya smiles a little and gently kicks Verlander's leg. Verlander nudges him back and grins.  
  
"I'd tackle you if I could."  
  
"Want me to tackle myself?"  
  
"I'd love to see you try."  
  
"I'm not gonna." Verlander smiles. "I ain't that dumb."  
  
Zumaya laughs because Verlander _is_ kind of that dumb that he would try and tackle himself. He won't say it, though, because he'll get some absurd rebuttal that he just doesn't want to hear. He gets up and walks stiffly to the kitchenette. He thinks for a second, _why doesn't that jackass offer to do whatever for me?_ and remembers that Verlander knows him up-down-frontward-backward-inside-outside-upside-down, too, and knows he'd get a grunt and a "don't patronize me" in response to his offer.  
  
"Do you want a beer?" he asks.  
  
"No."  
  
"You always want a beer."  
  
"You can't have any with the medication you're on so I'm not gonna have any." Verlander says as Zumaya comes back with a bottle of water that he hands to Verlander to open for him, his eyes down, embarrassed.  
  
"You gonna stop pitching, too?"  
  
Verlander hands him the open bottle and raises his eyebrows, expressing a 'like I fucking could' and Zumaya laughs a little.  
  
"You really aren't good at looking serious." Zumaya says. Verlander tries to stare him down and Zumaya laughs into the bottle.  
  
"You should come up to the park sometime." Verlander says. Zumaya sucks his lips in between his teeth.  
  
"Why?" he quips.  
  
"The guys are gonna think you're losing it." Verlander says. "You should show up to show them that you're not."  
  
"I don't wanna lie to 'em."  
  
"Zoom." Verlander says simply. Zumaya looks at him blankly.  
  
"I won't go."  
  
"What do you even do here all day?"  
  
"I sit in the dark."  
  
"Just come down to Comerica. It would be good for the other guys."  
  
"No, JV."  
  
"It would be good for me." Verlander says, half choking, like the sound high school girls make in movies when some guy in a varsity jacket breaks up with her. Zumaya feels Verlander’s vulnerability radiating off him, hears it, sees it, he can practically smell it in the fucking air.  
  
Zumaya doesn't say anything, though. Doesn’t sigh, doesn’t chew his lip. He stares at the blank television screen. Verlander leans on Zumaya's good shoulder. He exhales in frustration.  
  
"I miss you, Zoom." Verlander's voice is surprisingly close to him and he jumps a little.  
  
"You see me all the time."  
  
"I miss you being at the ballpark."  
  
"I would come but it’d drive me nuts. I don't even watch the games unless you're pitching."  
  
"I'm sorry Zoom." Verlander is still leaning on him and he likes feeling Verlander's warmth against his side and the weight on the muscles of his arm. He pulls his arm free and puts it around Verlander's shoulders and sighs when Verlander doesn't fight the motion.  
  
"I know, man."  
  
"You will come back though, won't you?"  
  
"I sure hope."  
  
"But you will if you can." Verlander states. He sounds like some little kid.  
 _You're gonna come back aren't you Joel? You're gonna be okay, right Joel? You're not gonna be a fucking dumbass and tear your arm off moving boxes again, right?_  
  
 _No, dude. I might end up tearing my goddamn UCL jerking off, though. Break my wrist clicking a pen. Who knows? Any absurd inury is possible when you’re Joel fucking Zumaya._  
  
"Yeah." Zumaya leans back a little and Verlander repositions himself against his side. It should be weird, but it's not, for some odd reason it's not. But it's alright that it's not weird because it feels nice and Zumaya needs it, and Verlander probably needs it, too. "I'll come back if I can."


End file.
